Chuck and Sarah Bartowski vs Story Night
by Mystlynx
Summary: Is both a future fic and my idea for the World War II challenge at the same time. Chuck has promised to tell their twins a bedtime story on the night of their 8th birthday. Should be a fun time. Thanks for reading.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N****: This is my take on the WWII challenge. I intend it to be more fanciful than factual with a good bit of storyline on our favorite couple.**

** I do not own Chuck or any of the characters. I can only claim the computer I wrote it on.**

**Chuck and Sarah Bartowski vs. Story Night**

_After 4 years of missions, Chuck's ability to flash had begun to fade. It was theorized that like all memories, the Intersect files were becoming buried under all the new input of daily life. Flashes had become less frequent and less detailed. This suited both Chuck and Sarah just fine. She tendered her resignation and soon they were married. Chuck had moved on from the Buy More to a very nice position with a local tech firm and Sarah was happily instructing law enforcement students at a nearby college. Two years of wedded bliss later, the twins were born. Lauren and Linda Bartowski were blond haired and doe-brown eyed bundles of joy. This story picks up on the day of their 8th birthday. _

**November 11, 2021**

"Man am I glad that's over." Falling onto the couch next to Sarah, he surveys the disaster that was their family room. "Remind me again why we couldn't go somewhere for the party instead of hosting it and 12 screaming kids?"

"You know exactly why. The girls wanted a party and their father can't say no when they give him big eyes and smiles."

"Which they learned from their mother I might add." Grinning as he leans over to give her a peck on the cheek.

"What can I say, I raised two smart, beautiful girls that take after their mother in all the best ways."

"Humility being one of your more attractive qualities." Laughing as he reaches to bring her into his lap.

With perfect timing, Lauren runs up. "Daddy! You promised we could put my present together after our friends went home." Tugging at his arm. "They're all gone...please, please, please."

Looking to his wife for a reprieve, she smiles with a twinkle in her eye. "She's right Chuck, you did promise."

"Some help you are.", overdoing a world-weary groan as he lets Lauren drag him from the sofa.

"It's why you love me, babe. Always there for you."

Flashing her a gaze that can still set off fireworks in her belly, "That's not the only reason I love you, hun."

Sarah gives as good as she gets with an electric stare that brings color to his cheeks. "You two have fun and Lauren, try to keep your father out of trouble. Linda! Get your coat honey, time for your big present."

Lauren drags her dad all the way through the house to his workroom. She drops his hand to push a tall stool up to the counter and climbs on. He watches with pride as she puts the ESD band on her wrist and picks up a screwdriver. Next, she looks up with a serious expression on her face. "Ready to work?" It lasts all of 10 seconds before she breaks into a sunny smile. "Come on dad, let's do this. Hit me."

A few weeks earlier, they had spent all evening poring over websites to find the perfect combination of parts for her first computer. Chuck had them all arranged next to the workbench and lifted the case up in front of her. The afternoon passed as father and daughter bonded over circuit boards and hard drives. Once completed, he had a final present for her. He picked up her new computer and carried it to his den with Lauren following right behind. Without her knowledge, Chuck had set up a desk and monitor for her right next to his. She clapped and squealed with joy at her presents and couldn't wait to get it hooked up and turned on.

While they waited for the operating system to load, she climbed into his lap and hugged him tightly. "Thank you daddy, this is the best birthday ever."

"You're welcome angel." Putting a kiss on top of her head and basking in the moment. He remembered all the time they had spent here like this. Even as a baby, Lauren was always content to curl in his lap and listen to him typing. She would watch for hours as the screen changed from one project to another. It was only natural that she wanted to learn to do it too and by the age of 6 she was helping him work on the equipment in his shop. As his mind drifted, he wondered what Linda thought of her present.

"Where are we going Mommy? Is it far? I bet my present is better than Lauren's." Linda's mouth going a mile a minute as Sarah drove them downtown. She just listened and tried to get a word in when she could. Reaching their destination, she pulled into a strip mall that looked pretty much like every other strip mall. As she parked, Linda saw the storefront and knew right away where they were going.

"No way!! Really!! Are you serious Mom?" She was bouncing in her seat as she read the sign out loud. "Master Li Soo's Martial Arts and Fitness Center. Oh man the kids at school are going to be so jealous." She started making karate chopping motions complete with 'whoa...pah' sounds.

Sarah had to fight back a giggle at the sudden memory of Chuck and Morgan doing one of their little karate movie impersonations. "Yes Linda, this is your present. Actually, I signed us both up for special parent and child classes. I did some research and Master Li Soo is one of the best Kung Fu instructors on the west coast." Looking to her daughter, "You ready to go in?"

Linda was out of the car like a shot and waited impatiently at the door for her to catch up. Once inside, her daughter was all wide eyed with excitement. She looked over the trophies and pictures of students past before her eyes were drawn to the adult class on the mat going through exercises. With rapt attention, she followed their movements as they stepped through a complex set of moves.

Sarah let her take it all in while looking on. Her training had been more for effect than form and she was looking forward to learning the art itself more formally. Kung Fu had always been a draw for her with it's many branches and moves that took years to master in a meaningful way.

Impatient for them to get their chance, Linda grabbed her mom's hand and pointed to the class. "I am going to be better than all of them one day, just you wait and see." Sarah didn't doubt that, athletics were Linda's passion already. In school, she could run faster and jump higher than all the boys in her class. Lauren was a close second but had never really cared for the whole concept when there were books to read. Looking down, Sarah met her daughter's shining eyes as she whispered, "Mom, this is the best birthday ever."

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After dinner it was almost a quiet evening, Lauren was busy setting up her new computer with all the drivers and making sure everything was perfect. Linda, on the other hand, refused to take off her gi and was popping out around corners with lots more "Whoa-pahs" The cat was not amused. Mr. Buttons finally curled up under Lauren's chair and was able to get in a proper nap.

The only benefit being, Chuck and Sarah were able to put the house back together with few interruptions. Worn out, they collapsed on the sofa. Chuck started on a back rub as she complained about a knot in her muscles. "Honey, you should have stretched out more first. You know you aren't as..."

"Finish that sentence at your own peril Bartowski."

"Or what, you'll pull a muscle?"

"Oh, I can still do a lot more than that." Fixing him with her best agent stare.

Totally unfazed, he blasts her with a grin. "Promise?", adding in some eyebrow wiggling.

"You better believe it." She replies with a throaty purr. "Come here and make your wife feel all better.", pulling him into a deep kiss.

"Eeewwww....", erupts from the hallway.

"Girls? Are you spying on your Mom and Dad?" Sarah looks toward the sound.

"Noooooo." They say in unison.

"Daddy promised to...", Lauren started.

"read us a story.", Linda finished.

"Honey, when are you going to stop with the promises?"

"But sweetie, how could I say no to those big, brown eyes?"

Gazing deeply into his big and brown eyes, "I have the same problem." She leans in to get another kiss but is thwarted by two pint-sized missiles jumping onto the sofa.

"Not now Mommy. Daddy can't tell us our story. Come on...come on...come on...please...please...please..."

Chuck laughs as he pulls in his three ladies for a big hug. "Yes, girls, you'll get a story. But not until you both are ready for bed. I want to see teeth brushed, pajamas on and the two of you in your beds."

"Yes Daddy." They were grinning from ear to ear. Linda and Lauren hop off the sofa and run for the bathroom.

"Now, where were we?" Pouncing on her husband and pushing him onto the cushions, her lips reaching for his.

"Eeewwwww..."

"Girls! Bathroom! Now!" Whispering to Chuck, "I think they get that from you."

"Me? Why me? You're the super spy in the family."

"Exactly! If they got it from me, they would be so much better at it", giggling before dropping into his kisses.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Ensconced in their beds, the two wear eager, expectant looks when Chuck and Sarah walk in. As Chuck makes his way to the bookshelf, Sarah tucks in the girls before perching on the bed next to Lauren and letting her snuggle up. They all watch as Chuck runs his finger along the line of books.

"Not one of those, daddy." Linda pipes up.

"Yeah, we want a new story." Lauren chimes in.

Together they chant, "New story, new story, new story...."

"Girls, it's late. Your father can't get a new story for you right now."

"Awww....", as they turn their wide eyes to Chuck.

Sarah bites her lip to hold back a smile as she watches him melt and give in to the request. She wonders how he will get out of this one.

Casting around the room for inspiration, Chuck's mind starts working in overdrive. "Hmm...a new story? Let's see." His eyes come to rest on 'Happy Birthday' balloons and an idea sputters to life. Crossing the room, he sits down next to Linda so she can slip under his arm and get comfortable. "Who can tell me what today is?

With a giggle, Lauren says, "That's easy Daddy. Today is our birthday!"

"Yes, that is true, but today is special for another reason too. Today is November 11th and if you look on the calendar you will see it is called Veterans Day."

"Our teacher talked about that, said it was for remembering people that had gotten in to big fights to protect us from other people who were bad. Everyone got involved so they called it a world war. That must have been scary." Linda peers up at her father as she speaks.

"It was.", giving her a kiss on the forehead. "But more than just fighting went on. There were lots of spies that did important things during those times."

"Like James Bond?" The kids call out together.

Grinning, "That's exactly right, just like James Bond." Lowering his voice and looking back and forth between them, "The best and most successful spy in World War II was an American. He was so good and so secret that no one has ever heard of him. But...." Pretending to look around for anyone trying to listen in before continuing. "He kept a journal in the hopes that eventually someone would learn of the things he did."

"One day, I was working on an old house, trying to put in some network cables. Your uncle Morgan let go of one end of a cable and it fell inside the wall where we couldn't reach it. I had to put a hole in the wall and what do you think I found? A dusty, leather bound book. I opened it and the pages were filled with handwritten notes, all dating back to the 1940's."

All wide eyed, Lauren whispers, "Wow, that's really, really old. Could you read it?"

"Yes, I sure could read it. Not certain of what I found, I hid it in my tool kit and took it home so I could go through it more carefully. And it was amazing, all the things this man had done during those dangerous times." His face and voice getting more animated as he talks. "But there was one mission that changed his life forever and I have never forgotten it. This mission was a turning point in the war to be sure, but the personal implications were even greater."

"Come on daddy, tell us, tell us." Linda was starting to fidget next to him.

Sarah has to join in, "Yes, daddy, tell us about this amazing spy." Her little girl voice makes Lauren and Linda laugh.

"I will." Meeting their eyes one at a time he says solemnly, "But you can never tell anyone, it has to remain our secret."

Looking as serious as only 8 year olds can, they nod their heads.

"His name was Carmichael. Charles Carmichael and he was a special agent in his Presidents Secret Service." Chuck couldn't resist just a little accent when he said it.

He hears a snort from his wife and glances over to see her holding in laughter. Bouncing his eyebrows a couple of times, Chuck returns to his tale. "As a top, top agent, Carmichael reported directly to the President for his orders. I noticed in his journal that he liked to give names to his missions. This one is entitled, 'Carmichael versus the Secret Weapon'."

"Ooooh." The twins breathe out.

"Tonight's story begins a long time ago in a country far, far away...."

"Daddy!", the girls begin laughing again.

**Next: The Spy, the Pilot and the Princess**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: sorry it took so long, been lots going on. Hope you enjoy.**

**Chapter 2: The Spy, the Pilot and the Princess**

Princess Sarah Windsor peered out into the dark night. Her train had been stopped a few miles outside of Hamburg. Darn it, she had gotten so close. Noises drifting from the forward cars told her a search was in progress and she had only minutes left before being discovered. Glancing into the darkness once again, Sarah was certain it was a trap as well. There had to be troopers hidden among the trees and shadows. It's what she would have done were the roles reversed. So, she sat and waited in silence for the inevitable. Her hopes resting on the shoulders of Morgan Grimsley, family manservant. She replayed their last conversation in her mind.

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"Grimsley, there's no time. We can't allow these plans to be recovered. I fear our escape was not as clean as it appeared." Sarah whispers as she shoves a small satchel into his hands. "You have to get these to our resistance friends as soon as possible."

"Yes, milady, I understand. But, umm, the train, it's moving....awfully fast...." He swallows nervously and watches the landscape speed by. "Surely, there is a better way to deliver the plans? Carrier pigeon maybe."

Eyes darting back and forth between the train car door and surrounding forest. "There is no other way Grimsley, you must leap bravely from the train and make your way bravely to the safe house. Go now my brave, brave servant." She pushes him closer to the edge of the small platform. "I will see that you are rewarded handsomely when all this is over." Pushing harder as he holds tight to the railing.

"I was thinking Princess, we must have made a safe getaway or we would have seen some sign before now." His wide eyes locked on the ground flashing past. "How about I get you a nice cup of tea and we try and enjoy the rest of the trip. Our car awaits in Hamburg and from there a quick drive cross country."

"Oh Grimsley, always thinking of my needs first. Your selflessness shames me, but our duty is clear. I must go back into the train and have that tea by myself. The hopes of all free people now rest in your capable hands. May your feet be swift and sure." Sarah continues her words of encouragement while prying his fingers from the rail.

With a final tug, she pulls his hand free and shoves quickly. Morgan finds himself flying through the air, not nearly long enough. "Oof....ouch....my head....that's going to leave a mark......rock......tree.....I'll feel that in the morning.....fence post....." His tumbling continues a little farther.

Speaking quietly as she watches him shrink into the distance, "Luck be with you dear Grimsley." Turning to reenter the train car. "Now, about that tea."

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Looking down at the empty teacup, she sent wishes of hope out to him. With a crash, the door at the front of the car opened. Black suited soldiers filed in one at a time and moved quickly to surround her. Schooling her features into a calm mask, she waited for the man in charge to show himself. It was not a long wait. His imposing figure barely fit through the door. She sucked in a surprised breath of recognition as her knees trembled just a little. He nodded to her politely.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Princess Windsor. I have heard so much about you. And from your reaction, you must have heard of me as well. Certainly we will be fast friends in no time, as long as you hand over the plans you carry." One black-gloved hand reaching out imperiously.

She ignores his gesture, standing to make eye contact instead. "Everyone has heard of you. Hitler's head of sciences and research. The atrocities you have committed are legendary. It will be my pleasure to see you defeated, Leader."

"It will take much more than a spoiled royal to bring me down. We have watched you for some time now, engaging in your little escapades. The interference was almost an annoyance. This time you have gone too far. I don't care who your parents are, or how many friends you have, you will return those plans to me!" His voice dropping to a menacing growl. "How much you suffer is totally up to you, princess."

"You wouldn't dare. My diplomatic credentials are fully recognized by the Geneva Convention. I suggest you release me now and I will forget about this little folly."

Leader pauses for a moment and she starts to hope.

"Captain!", he barks.

One of the men snaps to attention. "Yes sir, Leader sir!"

"See that our prisoner is escorted back to the castle. Discreetly. And then have your men tear this train apart. Those plans have to be here and I want them back, now!" Turning on his heel, Leader sweeps from the room with a swirl of black cape in his wake.

The captain gestures to two of his men. Sarah starts to protest but a hood is dropped over her head. Next, her hands are bound and she is led from the train. Supported on both sides, she is hustled to a waiting car and unceremoniously shoved into the trunk.

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"The President will see you now, Agent Carmichael."

Unfolding from the chair, Charles Carmichael straightens his impeccably tailored suit and smiles to the secretary. She lightly blushes at the attention. As he walks by the desk, "Maybe I could see you later, my dear?" Her blush deepens.

"Sir, the President is waiting. You really should go in."

Sighing expansively, "Pity. But, duty calls." Walking through the door, he notes the man behind the desk looking especially harried this evening.

"Agent Carmichael take a seat, we haven't much time if you're to make your flight."

"My flight Mr. President?"

"England. You're headed to England. We've recently received word that a member of the Royal Family was taken prisoner. The Queen herself has asked for any aid we can provide. I need your best Carmichael, we need to get her back." Handing over a too slim file for Agent Carmichael to read.

"What makes her so important?" Opening up the file and staring for a moment at the enclosed photograph. "Other than being stunningly attractive." Flipping to a couple of typewritten pages which he quickly scans and commits to memory, "So, she's been using her diplomatic status to aid the rebel factions in France and Germany. It seems odd to have risked kidnapping her now. She's been part of a few minor operations at best."

"Not this time Carmichael. There have been rumors floating around for months of a German breakthrough in weapons technology. Some kind of superweapon is all we know for sure. That and the name of the man behind it, Leader. Princess Windsor was tasked with transporting the plans in an effort to get them out of the country. A number of our deepest moles died in the liberation of those documents."

"Leader, huh. I've been wanting another crack at him. Our last encounter did not end quite to my satisfaction. He lived."

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of what happened. No vendettas Carmichael, your first priority is to rescue the Princess and recover those plans. Do I make myself clear?"

"Clear as crystal, sir. I won't let you down. If I may ask, why are you sending me to England instead of a direct insertion into Germany?"

"Leader occupies a castle deep in the Bavarian Alps. You'll need help getting that far into Europe. I believe you have an old friend serving with the Royal Air Force as a volunteer."

"Johnny has been working with the RAF? Makes sense, I didn't think he could stay on the sidelines for too long. Although, he might not be so happy to see me. Our last mission did not go completely as planned. He blames me for getting shot."

"Then I suggest you find a way to make it up to him. Major Carson is in possession of a prototype P-51R Mustang. Probably the only aircraft capable of taking you all the way to Leader's castle. The briefing is over, Agent. You have a plane to catch."

Standing to attention, Charles salutes. "Yes sir, Mr. President. We'll get this princess back, and the plans as well. You have my word."

**Somewhere over the Atlantic**

Carmichael hated flying. Especially on these military transports. He didn't think a team of engineers could purposely design anything more uncomfortable. Sleep was out of the question, so he turned to the file and it's contents. The report was devoid of any real detail, but he skimmed it a few more times. Invariably, he would find himself staring at the photograph. Even though only paper, there was something in her eyes. And her smile was enchanting to say the least.

"Keep your mind on the mission Carmichael. She's just another person to be rescued. You've done this a hundred times before." Charles had always found it calming to talk to himself before a mission. He'd come up with some of his best plans that way. "It's gonna be great to see Johnny again. I'm sure by now he has forgotten all about the incident in Morocco. Yeah, and Hitler likes to wear women's underwear."

He sighs and tries to find a new uncomfortable position to get some relief from his current uncomfortable position. "I hate flying."

**RAF base near Southampton**

Stepping from the car, Charles shoulders his small duffel as he surveys the flight line. Smiling, he recognizes the bulky figure of Major John Carson standing in front of a dazzlingly-bright, silver Mustang. With a cloth in hand, he appears to be polishing one of the already perfectly spotless wings.

"Wow Major, she sure is shiny."

Continuing his polishing, the major launches into an excited ramble. "Yeah, she's shiny. A turbo-charged Rolls Royce Merlin engine, six20mm cannons in the wings, She can mount belly and wing tanks to fly farther than anything else in the sky, and I even reupholstered the seats with extra padding for those long flights." He turns around and narrows his eyes at what he finds. "Carmichael, what are you doing here?"

"Happy to see you too Johnny boy. Can't a fellow visit an old friend?"

"As long as it doesn't involve me getting shot again."

"You can't still be going on about that, it was barely more than a scratch."

"It was my toe! I would say that's much more than a scratch."

"I said I was sorry. C'mon....buddy...let me make it up to you"

John eyes him warily. "I'm not sure I like that smile you have. Wait a minute, you need my plane don't you? I should have known. That's the only thing that would bring you out here to see me. No way, uh uh. Not risking my baby on one of your missions."

"I wouldn't have come if I didn't need you, Johnny." Charles takes a couple steps closer and lowers his voice. "The Nazi's have Princess Sarah Windsor and we have to get her back. Plus, she was involved in trying to smuggle out plans for some super secret new weapon."

Looking conflicted, "That sounds dangerous and you've already cost me one plane. You remember Annette, my custom P-40 Warhawk? A plane that is now pieces on the bottom of the Mediterranean."

"She's a princess. Rescue her and the Queen would give you ten Warhawks or anything else you could ask for."

"I don't know, I can ask for quite a lot.", looking skeptically at the agent before him.

"She's beautiful." Carmichael holds up her photo.

Major Carson looks at the picture and then glances to the gleaming nose of his Mustang. "So is Patricia and I want to keep it that way."

"If that's your final answer, I'm sorry John. I have orders signed by the President himself to confiscate your plane in service to the USA. I will have to fly myself into Germany." Knowing he has him, Charles keeps the smile off his face.

"What....you can't....that's not fair....", squinting to read the page that was just thrust into his hands. His look of defeat turns to victory. "Wait a minute, you don't know how to fly a plane. You hate to fly."

"Actually, I'm a very good pilot. I simply prefer to keep my feet on the ground. Come on Johnny, for old time's sake. You and me against the Nazi's again." Then Carmichael plays his trump card, "We'll be going after Leader. Remember him? The guy that was responsible for your gunshot wound."

His face darkening, Major Carson growls at the mention of Leader and Charles knows the decision has been made. John signals to a group of maintenance workers before turning back to Carmichael. "Give me 20 minutes to get the extra fuel tanks installed and complete my preflight checks. You might want to visit the bathroom, it's going to be a long flight." Then, Charles forgotten, he turns to the task at hand.

Charles takes the recommendation seriously, he scans the outbuildings until finding a berthing area. He thinks that maybe a couple aspirin might help as well, still feeling a little unsettled from the previous flight. Quickly reaching the barracks, he arrows straight for the restroom facilities. A shower would be even better, but no time for that. Deciding on the aspirin first, he opens the medicine cabinet only to find someone staring back at him.

"Holy crap....", jumping back. With a second look, he recognizes the other man. "Agent Landon? How did you get in there?"

"It wasn't easy." Agent Landon flashes a grin before turning to business. "The President has an update for you. He believes the plans are still at large. The princess was captured, but our intelligence suggests a manhunt is still under way. She was known to be traveling with the family butler, his whereabouts are a mystery. You will need to rescue the princess and with her aid, find those plans. Good luck Agent Carmichael."

"Roger that Agent Landon." Charles closes the door to the cabinet, pauses and then swings it back open. "Bryce, was there any aspirin in there?"

"Uh, yeah, I think there was. Just a moment, Charlie." It takes a few minutes of wiggling around, but soon a bottle is produced. "Here you go. Not looking forward to the flight?"

After popping a couple pills, Carmichael hands the bottle back. "Not really. But, we go where the mission takes us. You have a safe....."

Loud sirens erupt outside, both agents cry out, "Air Raid." Grabbing up his duffel, Agent Carmichael runs for Carson and his airplane. Outside, he can clearly hear the whine of propellers and spares a look at the sky. Swiftly growing larger, a dive bomber hurtles toward the base, others lined up behind him. Carmichael sees two bombs detach as the airplane pulls out of it's dive. Throwing himself to the ground, he covers his head right before a thunderous explosion. He looks back to see the barracks is now a pile of splinters. "Agent Landon!"

A loud yell pulls his eyes back around. Major Carson is waving frantically from the cockpit. Charles pushes himself to his feet and sprints across the field. John releases the brakes and begins to taxi for takeoff as Agent Carmichael closes the distance. Another pair of bombs land in their path, a crater now blocking the runway. Unflappable, John Carson starts to spin Patricia to an alternate path. He won't have the wind to help, but if he doesn't get off the ground, they don't stand a chance.

With the change of course, Charles is able to the close the distance quickly. Clambering onto the wing of a rolling plane is not as easy as it looks. Scrabbling for hand holds, he pulls himself up and into the second seat. He hears the engine rev up to full before even getting the seat belt fastened. John swings the canopy closed and locks it down.

"Hold on tight back there, we'll only get one chance at this." The Mustang leaps forward, rolling more and more swiftly across the grassy field.

His eyes glued forward, Charles asks nervously. "We can clear those trees, right?"

"Of course we can." Then more quietly as he strokes the instrument panel. "Come on Patricia, you can do it." He pulls back on the stick, throttle to the stops. Clawing at the air, she starts to rise. Major Carson stares at the onrushing tree line, too close....too close..., running through his head.

Screwing his eyes shut, Agent Carmichael moans, "I hate flying."

xxxxxxxxxxx

With a smile, Chuck looks at Sarah and the girls. "And that is all for tonight. Time to get to sleep young ladies."

The twins whine with a loud, "Awwww!"

"No more tonight girls. It's been a big day. You will just have to wait until tomorrow night to find out what happens."

They make more sounds of protest before Sarah steps in to help. "Listen to your father. You don't want to be falling asleep at school tomorrow."

It takes a little more work, but soon the girls are properly tucked in. Good night kisses are shared all around before Chuck and Sarah turn out the light and shut the door. They hold hands and walk towards their bedroom. He catches a look from Sarah. "What?"

"You just had to blow up Bryce didn't you?" Her mouth turned up in a mischievous grin.

"It was a necessary plot point. I had no choice really." Lip trembling as he tries not to laugh. "Hey, I threw Morgan from a moving train so you can't say I was picking on just one person."

That becomes the final straw and they both giggle. Once into the bedroom, Sarah shuts the door before grabbing her husband and pushing him up against the wall. He regards her with a curious expression. She leans in close, pressing against him. "You can tell me, Chuck. Do they make it past the trees?"

Inching closer, Chuck brings his lips to within a hairsbreadth of hers. "Do your worst, I'll never tell."

"Mmmm, I love a challenge."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** My apologies for the long time since posting. Another story has been taking most of my attention. But, finally there is a new chapter for Story Night. Is mostly to introduce the last of the characters before things get started. Will try and have the next one up sooner. The other story is almost done so that should help. In addition to the occasional Star Warsy lines, there is a Battletech reference and 'Of Mice and Men' may be an influence. Or Bugs Bunny. You can decide. Still don't own Chuck.

**Chuck and Sarah Bartowski vs. Story Night**

**Chapter 3**

**November 18, 2021**

"Dad! Mom needs help! She was showing off in class again and hurt her leg!" Yelled Linda as she hurried into the house. Still in her gi, she was eager to head to the family room and practice everything they'd learned today.

"Linda Bartowski, I was not showing off!" Sarah enters, sounding miffed at the accusation. "Sensei asked for a volunteer. I've done that kick a thousand times." Wincing as she leans against the island in her kitchen. "I wasn't loosened up enough yet."

Standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, Chuck conveys a solemn expression. "Showing off in class again? What am I going to do with you, Sarah?" His lips twisting into a smirk.

Giving him one of her best scowls as she favors her leg, "I can tell you something you won't be doing with Sarah if you don't wipe that smile off your face. It's just a muscle pull. I'll be fine in no time."

He crosses the kitchen to kneel by his wife. Gently probing up from her knee, his fingers brush a tender spot. He looks up at the hitch in her breath. "Just a pulled muscle?" His eyes full of concern.

"Yes honey, really. I've had enough of them in my life to know what it feels like. I'll be fine in a day or two, promise." She reaches down and playfully tousles his curls before extending further to grab his collar and pull. "I can't believe I've been home for over five minutes and you're still holding out on a kiss for your darling wife."

"Five whole minutes? I'd better do something quickly before you call the cops on me, and, I'm charged with neglect." Straightening at her insistent tug, he tilts in close to give her a proper welcome. After, he offers his arm. "Come on, sweetie. I think you could use a nice, hot bath. The heat will do your muscles good. Don't you worry, I'll take care of dinner tonight."

"You're taking care of dinner?", looking at him skeptically. "Just remember, no olives."

Completely shocked, Chuck says, "Is that what you think of my burgeoning culinary skills? I offer to handle dinner, and you instantly assume it means ordering pizza." Walking with his wife to the bedroom, "I'll have you know, the plan was to order chinese. So there."

Laughing, Sarah kisses his cheek. "How could I have ever doubted you Mr. Bartowski?"

Later that evening, the family Bartowski is seated around the dinner table. Chuck looks over the assortment of takeout containers until spying his objective. Seconds before he can lift out the last of the dumplings, a pair of chopsticks dive in and expertly abscond with the morsel. He pretend glares across the table to see his wife with a smug look and puffed out cheeks. "Really, Sarah? The last one? Not even wanting to share after all the work I did to create this wonderful meal?"

Lauren pipes up, "Yeah Mom, what about sharing? Aren't you supposed to set a good example?"

"I'm wounded, that means I can call dibs on whatever I want. You two can share anything else on the table." Speaking around the last of the dumpling.

Chuck glances at Linda and Lauren, mischief on his face. "You heard her girls. Mom is wounded. I think that means she'll have to get all comfortable in her bed during story night. It wouldn't be right to keep her up while we have fun."

At the mention of story night, Lauren and Linda's eyes light up. They've been waiting, not very patiently, all week to find out what happened to John and Charlie in the airplane. Linda chimes in, "Don't worry mommy, I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

Lauren adds, "I'll help. It's too bad you won't be able to hear daddy tell it. He does such a good job."

All three turn innocent faces to Sarah. She adopts a hurt expression. "Chuck, I can't believe you would turn my girls against me. Not only am I injured, but, now I'm being banned from story night. What did I do to deserve such treatment?"

Chuck motions to the girls and they lean in close. The three begin to make exaggerated whispering noises and look over at Sarah every now and then. A minute later, they nod in agreement, and, Chuck clears his throat as the girls stifle giggles. "After careful deliberation, it has been decided that you may attend story night. But, there is still a punishment pending for stealing the last dumpling."

Meeting the eyes of her children, Sarah nods, "I can accept those terms. As long as I'm allowed to tuck you two in and get some good night kisses."

Linda shares a quick look with Lauren before answering her mother. "Well bargained..."

".....and done." Lauren finishes. Both grinning like cheshire cats.

"They make me so proud." Chuck says, pretending to wipe away a tear.

Sarah rolls her eyes, "Our girls are going to grow up much too well versed in nerd speak for my tastes. Maybe I can get their Uncle Casey to teach them camping and hunting."

Wiggling his eyebrows at Sarah from across the table. "And yet you know where that saying comes from just as well as I do. Who's to say where they're getting it from?"

"Fine, I've been contaminated too. Know what, I think I'll go along with Casey and the girls on the camping and hunting trip. Do ya think you could live without us for a few days?" Sarah smiles innocently at him.

"Hmm, a weekend of pizza and video games. Puh...puh...puh....puhleeeze don't throw me in that there brier patch." Chuck says with an exaggerated southern accent and puppy dog eyes. Immediately, the girls explode into giggles at their dad's crazy antics. Sarah looks on unimpressed, except for a lone twitch at the corner of her mouth.

Making a big show of looking around their clean and orderly house, Sarah shifts her attention back to Chuck. "On second thought, getting out of town might do us ALL some good. Ellie can check in on Mr. Buttons and bring in the mail for us. What do you say husband of mine? A couple of days in the great outdoors, fresh air, lots of stars at night, your three favorite ladies to keep you company? You and Casey bonding over firearms?" Grinning at the image that conjures up.

Linda perks up and chirps excitedly, "Ooh, Uncle Casey promised to teach me how to shoot and said, one day he would get me my very own gun..." Her volume and excitement dropping quickly with Sarah's gaze directed at her. "....but only when I'm much older and more responsible." Lauren snickers, then quickly shuts up as 'the look' is turned her way as well.

Jumping into the sudden conversation vacuum, Chuck speaks up. "That's a great idea Sarah. Except for that whole bonding with guns part. We haven't really broken in the new tent that you made me....erm....I mean we both thought would be a wonderful purchase for the family. I'll give Casey a call tomorrow and see how his schedule looks."

Dinner finished, Chuck and the girls hop up to clear the table. They usher Sarah from the room, telling her to get comfy on the sofa. In deference to her injured status, she is allowed to pick the movie and her choice of snack for the evening. Everything in order, the Bartowski family enjoys a quiet movie night. Curled up in Chuck's arms, Sarah informs the girls it's time to get ready for bed as the ending credits roll. Knowing what comes next, Lauren and Linda are off like a shot to get their teeth brushed and pajamas on.

Sarah pulls Chuck down for a kiss. "Thank you for tonight, baby. I promise the camping trip will be a good time." A sly smile curves her lips. "Maybe Casey can take the girls on a long, long hike so we can properly break in the new tent."

"I was already sold on the idea, but, now I can't wait to meet mother nature. Uh, there won't be too many bugs though? Right?" Chuck asks nervously. "I mean the six and eight legged kind. Then again, with Casey, we might want to look for the other kind of bugs as well. Especially before we do any breaking in of the tent."

Swatting Chuck on the arm, Sarah chuckles. "John wouldn't do that." Suddenly remembering the aftermath of a certain mission involving a Santa Monica hotel room and an audio tape. "Got it, we check for bugs." As she swings her legs off the couch to stand, Sarah winces at the pain. "Help me up, sweetie? My leg tightened up from all the laying around." She holds out her hand.

"But of course, milady. If you play your cards right, there could be some Bartowski magic fingers in your future." Chuck whispers into her ear.

Sarah shivers, "Oh my, I'm feeling better already. Sadly, duty calls and I can hear the girls are getting restless for their story. Just keep those fingers warmed up, my leg will most certainly be bothering me later."

Chuck and Sarah join their daughters, getting them settled in bed. Sarah sets a chair between the twin beds and stretches out her leg as Chuck paces in thought. An expectant hush fills the room as all eyes are turned on him. He stops his pacing and with a grand flourish. "Morgan was jolted awake by a number of pains throughout his body. His sluggish brain reminded him of the leap...or push as it were...from the speeding train."

The girls erupt in a chorus of boo's, what about the airplane daddy, charlie and johnny are in danger. To which, Chuck gets a great big smile. "Oh, you want to hear about that first? I suppose." Looking all put out by the request. "Okay, Johnny had the plane taxiing down the runway, bombs falling all around them. He had just lifted off, but they were not gaining altitude fast enough."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Screwing his eyes shut, Agent Carmichael moans, "I hate flying."

"Dang it, we've got one on our tail. This could get interesting." Juking the plane side to side, they can hear the whiz of bullets passing close by. Major Carson scans the rapidly nearing barrier of trees. With only seconds to decide, he knows he gets one chance at this. Feathering the rudder, John sideslips deftly to place the biggest gap directly in front of the nose. With a quick thrust of the stick, he stands the airplane on it's left wing. Both of them flinch at the scrape of branches on canopy and belly, mercifully, that only lasts a few seconds. They explode through and John instantly rights the plane before they lose altitude. Patricia steadies out and resumes climbing as he puts them into a sweeping turn.

Whipping his head around, Charlie watches the enemy fighter attempt to duplicate their maneuver. Not nearly the skilled pilot, the wings waver with a moment's indecision before tilting to shoot the gap. The nearer tree clutches a passing wing tip to send the hapless pilot into a spin that ends in a fiery impact. Looking resolutely forward, Agent Carmichael tries to forget their most recent near death experience. With a voice much calmer than the thoughts in his head. "I would have expected you to go for a smaller space, you know, show off a bit."

From the front seat, Johnny yells back, "I was considering it. Just didn't want to deal with your starstruck adoration the whole rest of the flight. Even though, I am that good."

"Can you hold off on regaling me with your Congressional Medal of Honor acceptance speech until after the mission?" Returning to business, Chuck hands forward a sheet with the coordinates of their final destination. "We're headed here. Our intel shows a field that should be able to serve as a landing strip. That will only put us about 10 miles from Leaders castle base."

"I hope you brought a book or something, this is going to be a long flight." Casey folds the sheet and clips it to the control panel. Once at altitude, he adjusts to their final heading and relaxes. "Should be smooth sailing from here Charlie boy."

"Seems to me I've heard that before." With nothing else to do, Agent Carmichael closes his eyes for a nap.

**Forest outside of Hamburg**

Elsewhere, Morgan Grimsley is painfully regaining consciousness. Regretting that right away, he had been dreaming a wonderful dream. First of all, it was pain free. Second, there was a lovely woman taking care of him, stroking his hair and beard, and....wait a minute. His body ached and there were certainly going to be many colorful bruises, that meant he was awake now. So why did he still feel the caresses? Carefully opening one eye, he spied a rather wild-haired and somewhat glaze-eyed man leaning over him. Yelping in fright, Morgan scuttled away on hands and feet, only making it a few yards before running smack into another pair of legs. Looking up, he observed a somewhat oily looking, darker skinned man.

"Look Lester, the fuzzy man is awake now. See, I told you some petting would wake him up. He's not as soft as a rabbit, but it was still nice." Turning his big eyes on Morgan, he speaks with somewhat childlike tones. "My name is Jeff, this is my friend Lester. He looks out for me. One day, Lester says we're going to buy a farm and he says we can have rabbits. I will get to feed them and pet them and raise them all by myself." Smiling with pride. "Do you like rabbits, stranger?"

The other man speaks before Morgan can think of how to respond. "Jeffrey, I'm sure he loves rabbits. But right now, I think we need to get him back to camp. The poor sod looks hurt." Moving his attention to the man at his feet. "You'll have to forgive Jeff, he means well, but isn't all there upstairs. Let's get you up. Our camp isn't far away and you seem to be in need of some tending."

Finally finding his voice, "Your camp? Umm...are you gypsies?" Looking back and forth between the mismatched pair.

"My dear sir, we are nothing of the kind. Before you are two star performers of the Buymorian National Circus." Lester makes overly grand gestures with his pronouncement. "We happen to be traveling to our next engagement and are camped just over that hill. Jeffrey, help the man to his feet. I'm sure he is eager to meet our ringleader, I mean ringmaster, Big Mike and the rest of our crew. After all, who hasn't heard tales of the famous BNC."

Thinking to himself so as not to offend. '_I haven't._' Jeff grabs hold of an arm and tugs Morgan to his feet. One girly scream later, the trio are following a well worn path away from the railbed and into the cover of trees. Lester was right about their camp being just over the hill. After a short stroll through the cool, shadowed forest, they arrive in a clearing. Morgan observes a cluster of the sorriest looking wagons he has ever seen. They may have once been brightly painted and well-maintained, but that was years ago. The largest man he has ever seen waddles to the center of the clearing and is joined by a ragtag band of misfits. Oh, and one gorgeous, exotic angel in clingy leathers and a tad too much makeup.

"Dang it Lester, Jeff. Another stray? We can't be taking in every person you two find." The large man then chomps down the remains of a pastry in two bites, surveying Morgan.

"Yes, I know Big Mike. But, the poor man is obviously addled in some way. Apparent from his injuries, he leaped from a train. I was thinking he might make a good Green Shirt." Lester pleads. "You know we need another one after what happened with Fernando during the Stuttgart incident...er....performance."

"Jumped from a train?" Using a more appraising eye, Big Mike gives Morgan a good up and down look. "He might qualify for a Green Shirt, that is pretty stupid."

Distracted by the multicolored eye makeup over deliciously slanted orbs, Morgan finally tumbles to the conversation going on about him. "What....what's a green shirt?"

Looking offended, they all stare at him. Big Mike points to a small group of men and women, all dressed in green shirts. "The Green Shirts are only Europe's most well known and talented clown troupe. A Buymorian National Circus treasure for over one-hundred years. Normally, it would require extensive training and an interview with our director to even consider such a thing. But, not just anyone has the brass to jump from a moving train. So, tell me son, do you want the job?"

Morgan's hand brushes against the pouch containing the secret plans. They were entrusted to him by the princess and she was counting on him. Before pushing him from a freaking train. Still though, family duty and all. Grimsleys have been serving the Windsor family for generations. He needed to get these plans to the rebel encampment. It might be easier to travel in the company of these people though, throw off the suspicions of any soldiers he would meet walking on his own. "Well, I was really hoping to make my way to Bremen. I....know....some friends. Yeah, friends that live just outside Bremen. They're expecting me."

"Just outside Bremen? They wouldn't live near the rebel encampment would they? We have a performance there coming up soon. Those rebels really know how to party, too." Big Mike smiles at the tables of food that dance in his mind.

"Really, you guys have heard of the rebellion? I would love to meet up with them. I'll be a Green Shirt if that means I can come with you." Morgan can't believe his luck.

"Then it's decided. Umm, what's your name? So I can have your shirt stenciled." Big Mike snaps his fingers and Lester whips out a pencil and paper.

"My name is Morgan. Morgan Grimsley." His attention slipping back to the lovely young woman that has been staring at him rather intently during the whole conversation.

"Morgan it is. Your shirt will be ready well before we reach Dresden." Big Mike turns to leave.

"Wait! Dresden! But, I thought we were going to Bremen?" Morgan's head snaps back in the direction of Big Mike.

"We are, right after a command performance in Dresden for some guy named Leader." Signaling the discussion is at an end, Big Mike disappears into his wagon.

Morgan smacks his forehead, "Doh!" He ponders the whole situation for a while before realizing the three performers are still standing there. Smiling tentatively, "So, circus performers. What do you do?"

Jeff is the first to speak up. "I'm really strong. So, Lester told me I could be the strong man. He says every circus needs a strong man. Every one says I'm really good at it too. I can lift over 800 pounds."

Eyes going wide, Morgan stammers in disbelief. "800 pounds. That's amazing."

"It's not that hard. I have beer muscles." Jeff smiles happily at the compliment while flexing his arms.

_"Oooh, daddy. What are beer muscles?" Lauren asks with awe in her voice._

_Linda adds quickly, "They sound really cool. I bet I could totally show up all the boys at school if I could do that trick in gym class. Or better, kung-fu class. The Sensei would make me his favorite student for sure."_

_"Yes, Chuck. Why don't you tell our **eight** **year old daughters** all about beer muscles." Frost coating Sarah's every word._

_Looking at Sarah apologetically, Chuck replies. "I'm sorry girls, but, that's a circus performer secret and I really don't know it either. Maybe in another 10 years or so we can talk about it again."_

_"Awww...that's like forever." The twins whine at their Dad._

_"Yes, pretty close to forever, just like when you can start dating." Chuck quips._

_"Chuck, I think you should get back to your story now."_

_"Yes dear."_

Morgan is suitably impressed by Jeff's skills. Next he asks Lester. "So, what is it you do in the circus."

"I, my dear friend, am a feline behavioral modification artiste." Lester intones gravely.

"He trains cats." The lovely young lady says with a sneer.

"Anna, Anna. Any buffoon can train a cat. I take it to a level that is pure magic." Says Lester with more of his grandiose hand gestures.

"No, you train cats. They're cats, you train 'em." Anna switches to a bored tone. Morgan looks on, coveting this new piece of knowledge. Her name is Anna.

"But you are forgetting the most important aspect. The one thing that sets me apart from the common cat trainers of the world." His voice taking on a hint of danger and mystery. "I only work with feral cats. Yes, my friend, you heard correctly. Feral cats, the most dangerous of small, furry creatures that were formerly domesticated."

Mumbling mostly to himself, Jeff comments. "They bite. Not like my rabbits. My rabbits will be soft and cuddly and I will hug them and squeeze them and feed them and pet them and give them names like George and Marvin."

"Yes Jeff, we know all about the rabbits." Lester snaps. Seeing the sadness spring to being in Jeff's eyes, he walks over to his friend. "I'm sorry Jeff. Let's go practice your act for the next few hours. Doesn't that sound nice?" Jeff nods as he's led away.

Morgan is now left standing with the mysterious Anna. He swallows nervously before he asks his question. "Miss Anna, your outfit does not speak to any particular circus act I have seen. What exactly do you do?"

Stepping in close, she lets her gaze travel up and down. "I am multi-talented. Let's see; acrobat, knife thrower, high wire walker, juggler, trapeze work and occasionally camp doctor. Come with me Morgan, you look like you could use a doctor." Taking his hand, she leads him to the wagon with the medical supplies.

**Leader's Castle, overlooking Dresden**

"I promise you sir, the princess will tell me where the plans are long before her precious rebels can do anything to stop us. It is a minor setback at most." Leader proclaims confidently. "And once this weapon is fully operational, no one will be able to stand in our way. We will control the ultimate power on the planet."

Static-filled, the response blares from a large set of speakers. "You'd better be right, Leader. This project has been a serious drain on the resources of the fatherland. Success is an imperative. I expect to hear that the plans have been recovered by your next progress report. Is that understood?"

Leader bows, even though his master cannot see it. "Yes sir, understood. I will have those plans in my possession soon. Even now, my men are scouring the countryside looking for her traveling companion. He won't be able to hide from us forever."

"Just get it done Leader. Or I will find someone who can." The static hum disappears as the transmission is abruptly cut off.

Sarah hears the dull, grating sound of her cell door opening. Leader steps in with an evil smirk. "Good evening Princess Windsor. I would like to discuss the location of the rebel base and the stolen plans." Two men enter behind him. They are carrying a small cabinet, two chairs and a folding table.

"I've got a bad feeling about this." She says under her breath.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"And that is all for tonight girls. Bed time for my ladies." Standing up, Chuck goes to Lauren and Linda, giving each a kiss. "Good night my angels."

The twins try their patented pouting routine to get more story, but Chuck is able to stand firm. He simply smiles and watches as Sarah quiets them down while tucking them in. She gets her good night kisses as well before limping her way to the door. Chuck offers his arm for support as they turn off the bedroom light with a last good night to the girls.

As they walk to their bedroom, Chuck can feel Sarah's attention is focused on him. "Yes dear?"

"I was just wondering. After the whole beer muscles faux pas, you aren't really going to have Leader torture the princess for information. I know our girls are mature for their age, but, they are only eight. I don't want you getting too carried away. Remember the first time you tried reading them Lord of the Rings? Those nightmares lasted for weeks after the Weathertop chapter."

"Don't you worry about that, Sarah. It won't be torture in the conventional sense you can be sure. The girls will be fine. I promise. Speaking of being fine, how are you and your leg doing?"

Sarah throws a little whine into her voice, "It's so painful right now Chuck. I don't think I'll be able to sleep like this. I really need your magic fingers tonight, honey. They always make everything all better." She puts on her best innocent lamb expression.

Not falling for the act, Chuck is compelled to ask. "Let me guess. You might need attention paid to more than just your leg?"

Sarah responds with a drawn out, "Maybe." Batting her lashes at him for added effect.

Chuck shuts the door to their bedroom and turns to find his wife slipping free of her nightgown. "I'm not going to get much sleep tonight, am I?"

Beckoning to him, Sarah answers with a shake of her head.


End file.
